A New Appreciation
by Punch Buggy
Summary: An important infiltration gone wrong leaves the hitokiri Battousai to do a task he wasn't exactly trained for...ON HIATUS
1. Prologue

Hey everyone! This is my debut fanfic, and my first one as well! As I mentioned in my profile, I will be updating about once a week. I might decide not to but…I most likely will. I'll try to keep that timeframe, but if I don't don't worry. I won't completely abandon a fic! Anyway, I hope you like this. I'll make some more notes at the end of the prologue. Bye for now!

Disclaimer: Yay! This is the first time I get to say I own NOTHING!

Now, onto the story.

* * *

**Prologue**

The hitokiri Battousai crept through the dark alleyways in Kyoto, searching for the one man he was sent to assassinate.

Katsura had given the young killer the usual black envelope. And as usual, it only had one thing in it: a name. A government officials name to be exact.

Not that Himura had anything against the individuals he was told to slay; he didn't even know what they had done. The only crime he knew they were guilty of was being one of the self-righteous fools of the Tokugawa Shogunate. Or at least supporting them.

Himura slipped into the shadows, using them to quickly navigate the streets of Kyoto without the hindrance of being seen. People asked too many questions, and contrary to all the rumors about him being a bloodthirsty demon, he hated meaningless slaughter. He did what his job required and that was all.

He reached the street Katsura had told him the man would be using to exit Kyoto. Katsura had a very competent spy network stationed throughout many prominent cities; he could gather hard-to-find information as fast as Hiko Seijurou could chug a jug of sake.

And that was saying something.

The hitokiri examined the area. It was a desolate dirt road, laden with a variety of trees and plants. He briefly closed his eyes, trying to stake out any hidden kis. Sensing none, he quietly crouched behind a large shrub.

Heaven shall get its justice tonight.

* * *

Short, I know. But it is only a prologue. This was a little over a page on paper but my other chapters will be a little over five. And don't worry; it will be more humorous as it goes along! I bought Rurouni Kenshin chapter….21 was it? And Kenshin was making funny faces and junk! So he does have a sense of humor still, even behind all the blood.

So anyway, my ramblings have ended. Now review! lol.


	2. The Tug of Chaos

Alright everyone, 1st chapter! I'm seriously tired of trying to read my handwriting on this crumpled piece of paper. I have sketches everywhere as well…sighs I need to get more organized. Hopefully starting out typing the chapters will make it a lot less time-consuming. I'm going to be busy again…I have all these dumb requests for self portraits and stuff. But guess what? I have to draw Peter from some band. I think its My Chemical Romance but I'm not really sure. And FACCS is coming up! It is a competition our school does every year, and it's my last year I can enter as junior high. I don't know but I think I'm doing a singing solo, drawing, choir, and sculpture. No one ever does sculpture so it's an easy category.

Ok, I really need to shut up. I promise I won't do this next chapter! laughs

Disclaimer: I own cream cheese and a bagel which I will go eat right now because I'm hungry. Yum.

* * *

**Chapter One**

**The Tug of Chaos**

The bloody hitokiri limped sourly towards Inshin Shishi's headquarters, replaying the events of the assassination in his head.

'_I_ _can't believe I didn't notice the ki on the left!_' Himura mentally berated himself for not sensing the experienced ninja hidden amongst the trees.

By the time he had realized the disguised ki was there, he had already been hit with a star shuriken on his left thigh. It had pierced straight through his tattered grey hakama and embedded into his skin. He had stopped immediately and removed the shuriken after he finished the job but the wound was still burning fiercely.

Not having any supplies to clean the wound, Himura had merely tied a spare handkerchief around it and had begun walking towards the inn.

He was really regretting not taking heed to the other soldiers' advice and bringing some sort of first aid kit along with him. Sure, a handkerchief stopped the wound from bleeding all over you, but that was it. It wasn't something to keep out infection and it wasn't even staying in place well.

And of all the things it wasn't, it sure as hell wasn't a pain killer.

Kenshin cringed as he stepped on a small twig, a searing pain shooting up his left leg.

'_Ok, this is pathetic! The most feared hitokiri in the world cringing because of a twig!_'

'_Yes, but it was a very _painful_ twig._'

Ok, now not only was he a wimp, but a wimp that talked to himself.

Peachy.

Finally snapping out of his daze, Kenshin realized he had come upon the inn. Inclining his head towards the guard, he slowly slid the shoji door open. As expected, all eyes were on him.

Not that he was expecting anything different, but it really got quite annoying after a while. Kenshin couldn't really blame the fighters; with his delicate figure, pale, heart-shaped face, and long, silky red hair…you could say he didn't exactly fit the description of what you would expect the Battousai to look like.

Which gave these idiots more to poke fun at.

"Oi, Himura! My wife is looking for someone to help her pick out a new kimono, ya think you can help her out?"

Whirling around, Himura shot the man a cold glare over his shoulder. Roars of laughter erupted from that man and a few of his buddies. The rest of the Inshin Shishi's fighters only snickered or gave him a nervous smile.

Normally, they would never be so daring to say an outburst like that (as well as laugh at it). But as Kenshin looked around, his eyes landing on about thirty empty sake bottles, the reason dawned on him.

Either he was drunk, or this guy was the biggest idiot ever.

"You shoulda seen your face!" The man choked out between laughs, "You actually resemble a guy when you're pissed!"

Not even bothering to spare the fighter a glance, Himura made his way up the stairs, determined to have his much needed bath and to clean his wound.

Kenshin reached the top of the stairs, looking around. If he was correct, he was five doors down to the right…

'_Ah! There!_' Kenshin mentally rejoiced, spotting his room and walking/limping towards it.

Kenshin grinned. Only three more feet to go and he could get his bath and-

"Himura-kun! Oh my, what happened to your leg?"

-be stopped by the mistress of the inn.

'_Great._'

Putting on a fake, reassuring smile, he turned to face the mistress of the inn. She was a small woman, around 5 or so inches shorter than Kenshin, with short grey hair pulled up in a tight bun on the top of her head. It was always held up by her favorite yellow ribbon which complimented her midnight colored kimono with large, colorful sunflowers adorning it. She was an older woman, in her late sixties, with a warm smile and a kind nature. A true grandmother hen if there ever was one.

"It's nothing, Yamashi-san. Please don't-"

" 'Nothing!' he says! Dear, that is no 'nothing'! Just look at you! Covered in blood! We need to-"

"But Yamashi-san-"

"Now Himura-kun! No 'buts'!" Giving Kenshin a strict look, she continued.

"As I was saying, we need to clean that up! Running around with an injury such as yours is madness!" she finished, her hands on her hips.

With a defeated sigh, Kenshin succumbed to her wishes.

"Alright, Yamashi-san. I'll go take a bath and then you can clean up this wound."

"Excellent! I'll have your dinner in your room after your bath as well! Oh dear, you must be starved!" she exclaimed, motherly concern once again to work.

The mistress walked off to fetch some first aid, murmuring about "stubborn young people" and "leftover rice".

* * *

Slowly sinking into the tub's warm water, carefully favoring his thigh of course, the red-head sighed.

'_Katsura-san has picked a nice inn, I wonder how long we will be able to stay?_'

Nothing good ever came upon the people who spent their days working at inns the Inshin Shishi stayed at, you see. The last inn the Inshin had stayed at was attack by the Shinsengumi's second squad. The rebels had made a narrow escape, sending Battousai out to prowl the area and kill off the people in small groups. Although the tactic the Shinsengumi used was a good one, it was very vulnerable if your enemy finds a pattern in the places your men are stationed.

Shaking the thoughts of battle from his mind, the hitokiri ducked his head beneath the water.

Suddenly, a knock was followed by an old woman's voice.

"How's the water, Himura-kun? Oh, I do hope it is to your liking! I didn't make it as hot as I usually do, so…" A pause. "Himura-kun?" Another pause, this one more frantic. "Oh heavens!"

Bursting through the door, a frightened look on her face, she bellowed urgently.

"Himura-kun!"

Seeing him beneath the water, she rushed towards the tub and stuck her hand into the water. Grabbing a clump of the hitokiri's hair, she pulled with newfound strength.

Feeling a tug on his hair followed by a strong yank, Kenshin opened his eyes, startled. Even though the hot water stung, he kept his eyes opened; determined to see just who interrupted his bath.

"Himura-kun!" was the loud shriek.

Head now above the water, Kenshin turned to look at a teary-eyed Yamashi-san. She looked terribly frightened, still holding onto his hair and slightly shaking. You had to admire the old woman; who in their right mind would grab the hitokiri Battousai by his _hair_ and yank him to "safety"? Most would have let him drown.

…and maybe it would have been best if she did.

"Oh dear, oh dear! I thought you had drowned!" she cried.

Still a bit shocked about the fact that his head had just been cruelly yanked out of a bath tub, the hitokiri responded in a stunned silence.

Weeping residing after a while, the mistress of the inn finally looked at Kenshin through her now puffy red eyes.

"Oh heavens! I'm so sorry! I do believe I just walked in on your bath, didn't I?" she asked, not expecting an answer.

Quickly scrambling out of the bathroom, the innkeeper pulled the shoji door closed in a flurry.

'_Well_,' Kenshin thought, eyes still wide, '_that_ _was interesting._'

* * *

After his not-so-relaxing bath, Kenshin had wandered off to his room and changed into a spare yukata. A little while afterward, Yamashi-san, as expected, had nervously knocked on his door with a steaming pot of green tea and a tray full of so many assorted meals it was clear she was a woman who loved to spoil children.

And by the rosy blush spread across her cheeks, one could also draw the conclusion that the little bath incident had caused her quite a bit of embarrassment.

And this was not a good thing, considering that she had yet to help with Kenshin's injury. The whole ordeal was quite funny actually, with a blushing Yamashi-san attempting to fix the wound on his thigh without removing his yukata. In the end, she had finally worked up the strength to kindly ask him to remove the troublesome article of clothing and work on his wound. It was terribly deep and would take a long time to heal, but it wouldn't leave a permanent scar.

Smiling to himself, (well, as much as he could) the young hitokiri grabbed a brush and began running it through his silky red strands, wanting to get the task done before his hair dried and painful knots ensued.

Pulling his hair tightly up into a high-placed topknot, he tied it securely with a gold ribbon Yamashi-san had given him. "It matches your eyes!" she had said.

Many people have told him his eyes were the most frightening thing about him. One fighter had described them as "molten fire blazing amongst the darkness of the night". Even his use of the shadows, flame-licked hair, and menacing battoujutsu stance were considered ten times less intimidating. Quite weird actually, to think that a single pair of different colored eyes could instill such fear.

Slightly limping, Kenshin walked over to the window and sat down against the wall, laying his katana and wakizashi right next to him. He moved his left leg into a more comfortable position to spare his wound the pain. He closed his eyes, slowly drifting into a sea of bloody dreams.

* * *

Japanese Words

hitokiri: manslayer, assassin

-san: it shows respect

-kun: a suffix you would use to talk

yukata- a robe used for sleeping as well as other uses

katana- a sword

wakizashi- shorter sword carried around by a samurai

I think that's it... I really hate fangirl Japanese. If you don't know the language, don't use it! So I will only use what I feel is necessary.

And another chapter done! I told you this chapter would be longer than the first. All my chapters will be about this length. No longer! I don't think my poor fingers could take it…lol. And the plot doesn't start rollin' till next chapter, but don't fret, this lazy one will get there! Oh, and if you would like me to respond to your review, leave your email and I will gladly email you back! And if you haven't noticed already, I refer to Kenshin as "Himura" when he is acting more Battousai-like and Kenshin when he isn't.

Till next chapter,

Punch Buggy


	3. The Characteristics of a GirlyMan

Chapter two! I'm quite excited about this story; it's so much fun to write! But anyway, I won't talk too much since I promised I wouldn't last chapter. All I want to say is have you ever noticed that when you are writing, whatever you write about seems to overtake your emotions? Like, for example, when I was writing the prologue, I felt dark and gloomy. But when I wrote the part when Yamashi-san interrupts Kenshin's pursuit of a bath, I felt frustrated. Weird, huh? Oh, and it is a known fact that Kenshin was modeled after Kawakami Gensai, who was so girly people actually thought he was a girl when they saw him. That is why in this story he will be girly-looking. In the manga you can obviously tell he is a boy, but for the sake of the story, forget about your opinion and just think like Watsuki! XD

Also, I know my chapters are short. Please know the Prologue and first three chapters will be like that. I pre-wrote them, so that's why. The fourth, expect it to be long. Oh and I am so ticked about chapter one! I had lines to distinguish new scenes and it took them out when I posted the chapter! Ugh! Oh well, I rambled again.

Disclaimer: I OWN YOUR MOM (but nothing else). lol

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**The Characteristics of a Girly-Man**

Kenshin opened his eyes groggily. He never was a morning person, even in his days with his shishou. Hiko would often resort to cruel methods to awaken his baka deshi. Hot water, wasabi paste, thorns from rose bushes…

Kenshin cringed at the memory.

Suddenly, a loud crash was heard from downstairs, drawing Kenshin out of his memories. Himura bolted upright from his sitting position, that familiar searing pain shooting up his leg once again.

'_Right, forgot about that,' _he thought, cursing his injury.

Getting up in a more favorable fashion, the redhead sprinted to the shoji and turbulently threw it open. He scrambled down the hallway and down the flight of stairs, ignoring the protests his thigh was giving him.

Reaching the source of all the commotion, Himura Kenshin's eyes widened in shock.

The crash had been from a wounded man falling through the main entrance shoji.

Blood was everywhere, from the walls to the floor. The hitokiri scanned the scene. Six or so men were lying on spare futons, crying out in anguish as some of the inn's maids hurriedly cleaned their wounds. Some maids were scurrying about carrying pots of steaming hot water and washcloths while others were cleaning the blood off the walls and floors.

'_There's so much of it…_' Himura thought, pondering its source.

"Himura-kun!" he heard someone yell.

Diverting his gaze to where the call originated, Kenshin saw, once again, a frantic Yamashi-san.

'_Kami, does the woman ever just_ _**breathe**?_'

"Katsura-sama wants to speak to you!" she panted as she finally reached him, completely out of breath. Apparently, she had been running around looking for him for quite some time. Why she didn't just look in his room in the first place…

Well, we can do her a favor and blame that on age.

"Hai. Thank you, Yamashi-san." Kenshin said, bowing politely and heading straight for Katsura's room.

Walking down the vacant hallway, Himura stopped at his boss's room. Throwing the shoji open, the hitokiri glanced around the room, searching for the head of the Ishin Shishi.

"Himura."

Looking for the source of the soft beckon, Kenshin spotted a very dreary and tired-looking Kogoro Katsura. The redhead approached, bowing and sitting on a spare tatami mat across from him.

Seeing Katsura was not looking at him, Kenshin took the opportunity to examine the room. It was in a state of disarray, with papers strewn about in an unorganized fashion. Some of his books were out of the bookshelf, hanging over the side of his small table in the corner. The room all together felt rather dark and congested, nothing like the bright, cheery room it normally was. Kenshin tore his gaze away from the sight and looked at Katsura.

"You called for me, sir?"

A slight pause. Katsura closed his eyes briefly, a strained, dejected look on his handsome features. Taking a breath, he looked Kenshin in the eye.

"Himura, I didn't want it to come down to this, but it seems it must be done. Our last three infiltrations of the Shinsengumi's headquarters have failed miserably. They have been pushing back our attacks easily with a steadily increasing rate. Also,…"

Katsura's calm façade broke, a pained look emerging on his face.

"…they have Ikumatsu."

Just now Himura noticed the absence of the geisha. Her presence was so familiar, the hitokiri was quite ashamed not to have realized she wasn't there.

'_But…how did they get her?_'

Not wanting to upset Katsura more, Kenshin kept his mouth firmly shut and cast his eyes to the floor, letting Katsura continue without interruption.

"In light of the situation at hand, I needed to come up with an alternative. It's pointless to continue losing the lives of our men to accomplish a useless tactic. So, I have finally come up with the alternative I have been searching for. Send _one_ man. Alone."

At this, Kenshin looked up at Katsura with disbelief.

'_Just one man? That's assuring death!_'

As if sensing Kenshin's skepticism, Katsura continued.

"I know that sounds like a poor decision, but listen to my reasoning. Ikumatsu is an accomplished geisha. The Shinsengumi have no doubt found out about our relationship and will use her to get to me. This means, they will, of course, be ordered to keep her alive and well. And with their insane code of honor, they wouldn't dare kill her for fear of having to commit seppuku. So what to do with a geisha? Put her to work in a geisha house. And they would trust that okiya to keep a watch on her for them, because my sources have told me they have one nearby that they favor. They also have many teahouses where they often visit the geishas and maikos from that okiya. This is where that one man comes in."

Through this whole speech, Kenshin had remained calm. But now as he gazed steadily at the man who had been the closest thing to a father since he became an assassin, he began to feel upcoming dread of what he was about to hear.

"He will go undercover. Not as a typical merchant or anything of that sort, but as a maiko."

The hitokiri's eyes widened slightly, but he kept remained calm. Of course, he was trained to keep his composure, but he definitely was _not_ trained to be a maiko!

"My next dilemma was figuring out the best man to send. So, I compiled a list of characteristics."

Reaching into his haori, Katsura pulled out an old, rolled up piece of paper. Quickly unrolling it, he began to read, eyes scanning the elegant handwriting and commenting after every characteristic.

"'Number one: He has to be short.' I would say about 5'5 or shorter, for that's about the average woman's height. And as you know, that disqualifies almost all of my men." he said, looking up at Kenshin from time to time. Katsura didn't seem to notice, but Kenshin was beginning to get very nervous now, already having a feeling he knew who this list was pointing to.

"'Number two: He has to be elegant.' The man had to have the certain grace of a woman. This, surprisingly enough, can be obtained by practicing swordsmanship. Again, this disqualifies many more men because most of them are just normal people with nothing but the essential training."

Kenshin began to fidget, softly fingering the side of his hakama.

"'Number three: He has to be delicate.' Most men have a very large or medium sized frame; a far cry from a woman's. I need a man with a small frame."

Now Kenshin had outright broke into a sweat.

This was not going well.

Katsura suddenly rolled up the piece of paper and tucked it back into his haori. He held his fist up to his mouth and loudly cleared his throat.

"And the last characteristic I didn't care to write down. He has to be, well,…pretty." Katsura said, a hint of color on his cheeks. It seems he was as embarrassed as Kenshin was at this awkward moment.

Not.

'_Please tell me this is a joke._' Kenshin thought, his features contorted with dread.

Seeing the look on the younger boy's face, Katsura decided to just finish. It couldn't possibly get any worse, right?

"And as I'm sure you've already realized, I called you here to tell you are that man, Himura."

Composure completely gone, a flaming red blush in its place, Kenshin's eyes widened to the size of a large frying pan.

'_This is no joke! He's actually serious! **I'm**_ _the one he's sending!'_

No amount of training could have _ever_ prepared him for _that! _

"Demo, Katsura-san! I know nothing of maiko and geisha!" Kenshin sputtered indigently. "And I'm not even a _woman_!"

Katsura chuckled at his young hitokiri's reaction, his blush having faded. "Yes, I can very well see that, Himura. But do you think I could in good conscience send one of these maids? They would be killed instantly if the Shinsengumi found out! I want you to go because I have faith in your abilities, Himura."

Kenshin calmed down, letting what he just heard settle in. Katsura was right; it would be extremely dangerous to send someone who is not very familiar with the Ishin Shishi _and_ the Shinsengumi. They could be found out and ruin all hope of rescuing Ikumatsu.

"I understand, Katsura-san. When will I be leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning, you'll be headed to the okiya in Gion I mentioned. I have already informed the mother of the okiya of your arrival tomorrow. She'll explain some things you need to know." Katsura told the redhead, gesturing to him that he could leave.

Taking in the information, Kenshin bowed and walked to the door, sliding it shut behind him.

* * *

As Himura Kenshin slipped out of his customary outfit, many thoughts onslaughted his mind. It was not as if he was wavering between obeying Katsura's orders and not obeying them; the Ishin's leader's word was final. He just had so many questions and doubts that he couldn't answer. He would voice them to Katsura later; right now, he needed to get some sleep. He had too much to think about and not enough energy to actually think _about_ it. And it didn't help that amongst all of his thoughts, one kept grabbing his attention, having slipped his mind when he heard it.

'_Did Katsura-san just call me pretty?_'

* * *

Japanese Words

hitokiri: manslayer, assassin

-san: it shows respect

-kun: a suffix you would use to talk

okiya- a geisha house

geisha- person of the arts

maiko- apprentice geisha

demo- but

hai- yes

baka deshi- stupid student

shishou- what you would call your master in swordsmanship

kami- God

Ok, chapter two is done. Funny enough, this one took an awful long time to type up for some reason. And I revised the previous chapters so they would be pre-Tomoe. See you in chapter three!

Punch Buggy


	4. Prelude to the Impending Torture

Ok, last short chapter! Actually, I might make it long…hmmmm. You never know, this chapter might turn out longer or shorter; I could really go either way. But if you look at the little blue thing to your right, you'll know. XD And I am not quite used to anything besides dumb papers like "How To Tie Your Shoe" and "The Best Christmas Present Ever". LOL So, I definitely would love constructive criticism!

Another thing, I have something to say about fanfiction in general. Like the movie Spirited Away, it was the little things that made it a hit. I believe fanfiction is the same way. It's not however grand your plot is. It doesn't matter. If you can't find a good way of getting there, it's no good. (And I know my fic isn't great like Spirited Away or anything like that. I just wanted to say that. ) Also, in chapter one, I didn't give credit to whom it was due! When I said, "_And if you haven't noticed already, I refer to Kenshin as "Himura" when he is acting more Battousai-like and Kenshin when he isn't._" I was inspired by RurouniGochan! I'm sorry RurouniGochan if you didn't want me to do that!

Disclaimer: Do I have to do this _every _chapter? …fine. I own nothing. Sulks in a corner

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**Prelude to the Impending Torture**

Kenshin had quietly walked to his bedroom that night, still in a bit of a stunned state. He packed his few belongings, of course, but you could say it was a nightmare to try to fall asleep. All sorts of thoughts had onslaughted his mind that night. Such as:

How could he receive enough training to be a believable maiko in such a short time? Wasn't there a plethora of skills he would have to learn?

What those skills were, Kenshin hadn't a clue. He also didn't relish the thought of posing as a woman for so long, especially after a lifetime of being called girly. And that's not even mentioning the sick feeling of dread the poor assassin had over having someone spread that repulsive white goo all over his face. None of those things, however, were nearly as bad as the thought of having some stranger touching him. Just to have someone be too close caused him to become on guard, so how would he even _begin _to deal with someone applying makeup?

Kenshin sighed heavily as he walked down the stairs the next morning, quite tired of remembering the sleepless night.

'_Well, at least there were no nightmares,_' he thought, deciding to try looking on the bright side for once.

Yes, there were no nightmares, even though Kenshin did end up falling asleep in his typical fashion against the wall. And thank the gods he did; how horrible would it have been to drag himself to the okiya with large, black bags under his eyes?

The baka-deshi-turned-hitokiri reached the bottom of the stairs, holding a single black travel bag. Looking around the room, Kenshin noticed the commotion had died down somewhat. The men were still laying on the futons they had been on yesterday, but this time they were sleeping peacefully. Another thing to praise the gods for. No men to stare at him in fear, or for those who knew little about him, whisper. It really was annoying to walk downstairs in the morning and just be stared at. He usually ignored it, but in some cases he would give them a menacing glare over his shoulder and just walk out into the field to practice his kata. When the hitokiri was out of their view, the men would return to their boisterous ways and continue being the gluttons they were. As simple as that.

Today was very pleasant, though, the young assassin had to note. The sun's rays were splashing across the fully bloomed sakura trees, giving them a lustrous pink glow. The wind ruffled the inn's maid's hair as they steadfastly scrubbed some of the men's bloody kimono. Kenshin also noticed the scent of burning firewood floating in the air; apparently, Yamashi-san was cooking breakfast.

It was too bad he wouldn't be able to stay for breakfast. Yamashi-san was a wonderful cook and always had his meals specially brought to the small, secluded field Kenshin practiced in. He would go into to the kitchen and grab something to eat now, but Katsura-san had said that he must leave immediately in the morning to head to Gion.

'_Speaking of which, where _is_ he?_'

The Ishin Shishi's leader was presently nowhere to be seen. He had ordered that Kenshin come downstairs early in the morning to get a ride to Gion. How he was to get there was anyone's guess and he wouldn't worry too much about it now. He had better (or worse, however you look at it) things to worry about. Such as how he could keep the façade of being a maiko, or just a normal _girl_ for that matter. But he could deal with those issues another time; right now he only had to deal with one thing.

Where to look for Katsura?

Kenshin figured he might as well use a simple tactic in deducing where the Ishin's leader was. More precisely, a child's hide and seek game. All good tactics started off simple, right? True, it wasn't very professional, but since when did it matter how you completed the job as long as you actually _completed_ it?

Okay. Reminder to self: Never use a child's game (which you have never played) as a tactic. Ever.

Kenshin felt the urge to laugh at himself. But, of course, he didn't. It would have looked pretty odd to see the infamous hitokiri Battousai laughing (by himself) over something that was presumably nothing.

…and if anyone didn't question his sanity before, they would then.

Swinging his travel bag carelessly over his shoulder, the red-headed hitokiri walked forward to begin his little unorthodox game of hide and seek.

…and stopped.

There was Katsura Kogoro, almighty leader of the Ishin Shishi, kneeling before his breakfast table.

…munching on a pickle.

Oh yes, some poor soul would suffer a very painful death for this one.

"Katsura-san." Himura hissed, trying to restrain the venom he felt from entering his voice.

Had he just made a complete fool out of himself for no reason?

Yes, apparently he had.

Katsura swallowed his pickle and set down his chopsticks, wiping his mouth off with a blue handkerchief and turning to send the fuming hitokiri a pleasant smile.

"Ah, Himura. Just on time. I apologize for my rudeness, but dear old Yamashi-san's cooking is quite hard to resist," he said, slowly rising and brushing some crumbs off his clothing.

Katsura reached his full height, looking down at the small hitokiri. Kenshin stood at attention, anticipating a command.

"Have you had breakfast?"

Instead, he got _that_...

Kenshin blinked, surprised by the question.

"Uh- no, I haven't, Katsura-san."

Katsura half-smiled, walking towards the kitchen and gesturing for Kenshin to follow.

"Well then," he said, looking back over his shoulder at Kenshin, "we must pack you up with some food. It's not good to skip breakfast; and especially not such a delicious one."

Refraining from questioning those orders, Kenshin obediently followed him to the kitchen. While they were walking, Katsura spoke about trivial things such as the weather and how nicely the sakura trees were blooming. Not once did he mention Ikumatsu.

'_I guess he's not going to inform me of how the Shinsengumi captured her,_' Kenshin thought, not quite sure of Katsura's motives for keeping that bit of information secret.

Katsura did ask him how his injury was. Kenshin had never told him about the wound in the first place, but it was safe to assume the motherly Yamashi-san had confronted him about it after she left Kenshin's room the night she bandaged it up. Nevertheless, Kenshin had forgotten about it. The pain had slowly subsided; the only trace of it being when he moved too quickly. There was a scab where the bleeding gash had once been, but other than that, only an experienced fighter or doctor would know he had had the injury in the first place.

So when Katsura had asked him about it out of the blue, Kenshin struggled to find a reply, finally answering with a brief "fine". The rest of the short walk was in a relatively comfortable silence.

When they reached the inn's kitchen, Katsura knocked softly on the shoji and leaned in to speak.

"Yamashi-san, it's Kogoro and Himura-kun. May we come in?" he asked.

The normal racket increased ten-fold after this; pots and pans began banging incessantly as they were being moved around. You could hear hurried commands being whispered and people running about trying to follow them as quickly as humanly possible. Doing what, who knows.

"Of course! Come right in, dears!" called Yamashi-san, her voice sounding a long distance away. Hearing this, Katsura slid the door open and walked in, Kenshin following.

The kitchen seemed busier than usual, and even though breakfast was practically over, Yamashi-san and her helpers still had much work to do. Many dishes were piled in a large wooden bucket over in the corner of the room, clearly dirty.

'_They must have been trying to clean up before Katsura-san and I came in. Not that it helped much_.' Kenshin thought as he looked around.

Empty rice bags were strewn about, some stray clumps of rice sticking to the large brown sacks they were contained in. The fire Kenshin had smelled was out now, but the scent still lingered in the air.

It was understandable that they would have such a mess, considering the amount of men they had to take care of; hurt and unhurt. And it was also understandable that extra food was in its original container, still fresh and untouched. There was enough to make Kenshin a decent breakfast, which was exactly what Katsura had been hoping for.

Katsura turned to the inn's mistress, who was smiling at the both of them, her arms in front of her and her hands cupped together.

"Yamashi-san, would you mind putting a breakfast together for Himura-kun? He is leaving to go on a mission this morning."

Hearing this, Yamashi-san's face fell, upset that Kenshin would be departing. She really enjoyed the boy's company; even if he wasn't excellent conversation. It was sad to hear that she wouldn't be seeing the young red-head she had become so accustomed to for a while. None the less, she put a smile back on her face, ever the optimist.

"Why of course! I would be positively delighted to make Himura-kun something!" she exclaimed, turning to give a glowing smile to the hitokiri.

"Himura-kun, come along and we'll find something delicious for you! Oh my, I do hope you'll enjoy it!" she said with her usual energy. She latched onto the assassin's arm and softly pulled him over to a few laid-out meals, pointing excitedly at each one and searching Kenshin's face for his approval.

Katsura's lips fell into a grim line when he saw Kenshin and Yamashi-san were not looking. He had seen the barely noticeable flinch Kenshin gave when Yamashi-san had grabbed him. Since he had practically seen the boy grow through his teen years, it was quite obvious to Katsura when something was bothering him. The rest of the redhead's emotions…he wasn't too sure of anymore. The once idealistic youth had a naïve innocence about him, even with all the blood he had shed weighing heavily on his heart. The Ishin's leader knew it was his fault for making Kenshin into the renowned hitokiri he was now. He knew as soon as he recruited the redhead that he had ruined his life.

He had stained an innocent boy with the blood of men.

He had stained this boy to the point of no return. Katsura knew the hitokiri would never return to his old self no matter what he tried to do. He could never heal the pain, could never erase the sights the boy had seen from his memory. What was done was done; he could never heal the heart of the broken hitokiri, could never wash away the blood on his hands. It would stay for the rest of his life, constantly reminding him of all he had done in his days as a hitokiri. Blood was not something that could be taken away with one washing. It would never truly fade; it would become a distant memory in the future, but never something that could be forgotten. A hitokiri was a hitokiri until death.

And all Katsura could do was watch.

* * *

Yamashi-san had packed the poor kid with so much food it would be a miracle if he could consume it all in his whole lifetime. She had insisted on giving him a portion of everything she had cooked this morning, not letting him argue over one small dish. It was very kind of her, but as Kenshin walked briskly out to meet Katsura in the inn's garden, he began to think otherwise.

At the moment, the poor hitokiri had so many dishes piled up on top of one another resting on a large tray on his outstretched arms that he couldn't see where he was going.

'_That's it!' _he inwardly growled, about ready to throw the food into a large pond that sat stupidly in front of him.

"Himura," a strong voice broke in, "before you hurt yourself, let me take those."

After those simple words the great burden was easily lifted off his sore arms, and Kenshin came face to face with Katsura. Yes, face to face. Katsura was tall enough that even when he was holding all of those dishes, he could still see clearly over them. But no, when Kenshin held them, he could barely even see the top of the stack.

'_The gods must be out for revenge as well,' _he thought, looking up a Katsura with a comically reproachful expression.

Katsura sighed. "Himura, I need to discuss some things with you before you leave. Care to follow me?" he asked, giving Kenshin a look to come with him once again. Kenshin smoothly walked a few feet behind him, staring at the back of his haori and saying nothing.

They walked in complete silence over to the garden's large, withered old fountain. It was modestly designed, with a large basin in the middle to contain a good portion of sparkling blue water. A few colorful koi swum nonchalantly in their little oasis, boldly swimming up to the edge and staring at Kenshin's reflection as he reached their makeshift home.

The young hitokiri simply gazed back at the koi, watching as Katsura set down the food on the grass out of the corner of his eye. Seeing Katsura sit down on the ridge of the old fountain, he did the same. The two of them sat there in a peaceful silence for a while, the only disturbances being Katsura handing Kenshin a bowl of white rice and some chopsticks and the faint sound of birds chirping in the distance. But all peace had to be disturbed at some point, so Katsura decided it was time to break the silence and speak up.

"I need to inform you of a few things that I left out before," he said, looking over at Kenshin, who was merely gazing at him with an expectant expression as he ate his breakfast, "so I would like you to listen very carefully."

At this, Kenshin set his bowl and chopsticks down and gave Katsura his full attention.

"Do you know anything at all about maiko? Anything about their customs or routines?"

Kenshin shook his head. How would anyone think that he would know anything about maiko? He was an assassin, for Kami's sake, and he didn't exactly have to have any knowledge about these sorts of things! And Katsura knew that he lived on a mountain as a hermit's apprentice for practically his whole life, so why even ask?

'_Must be trying to make conversation.'_

After only a few weeks with Kenshin as his hitokiri, Katsura had learned it was a rare instance when he got any sort of verbal response. So out of experience, he just kept on speaking.

"They have this tradition where after years of training, a girl is assigned an 'older sister'. This sister works with her for five or so years after she has become a maiko, and even a while before that. She helps her with getting more clients and with improving all of her skills. Usually, the younger girl has no choice of who her older sister will be, but you will."

"I'm no female."

Katsura hunched forward and set his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on the knuckles of his sword-calloused hand and looking at Kenshin.

"Himura, I do believe we have already established that you are not a girl. And that is beside the point. I wanted to discuss the plan of action." he said, feeling stiff in his current position and sitting back up.

"Oh."

"Yes. When you arrive at the okiya, an older woman will greet you. She is the mother of the okiya. You are to refer to her for all things. I have already briefed her on the situation, so no need to fret over giving out extra information," he said, giving Kenshin a calming smile.

"Katsura-san, about this….'older sister'. Who will be mine?" Kenshin asked, genuinely curious. If he was to spend this whole mission guided by one girl, it would be helpful to at least know her name.

"Oh yes, about her. Her name is Matsuhiro Yukako, I believe. She knows about you as well, but only the fact that you are a boy who is undercover for a mission for the Ishin Shishi. She knows nothing of you being our hitokiri. But from what I heard of her, I don't think she would care much. And you may confide in her as well. She is apparently a very…strong…personality."

Well, that was helpful. As of now, Kenshin only knew his older sister's name and that she had a strong personality.

"What does she look like?"

Katsura very simply lifted one eyebrow and gave the redhead a knowing look.

"Interested, are you?"

Insert eye-widening and flaming red blush.

"Katsura-san! You know very well that is not the case! I need some way of identifying her!" Kenshin sputtered, clearly embarrassed, if the blush was any sort of indication.

"I know that. I wanted to lighten the mood," he said, handing Kenshin some more food and ushering him to eat, "and I also need to explain how this whole plan will be carried out."

Kenshin gratefully accepted the food, even though he was much more eager to hear the plan than to slurp up some now cold miso soup.

"You will ride to Gion by an old rice wagon. When you arrive, you will slip in through the back door. And don't worry, the driver will show you where that is." Katsura said, noticing the slightly confused look on the boy's face but completely missing the look when he said "old rice wagon".

"And from there, you will change into a more fitting attire and meet with the mother of the okiya. There she will explain all of the processes that are required to make you a convincing maiko."

Kenshin stifled the urge to ask him what that "more fitting attire" was. And it seemed that he didn't need to voice any of his questions to Katsura, since they would be answered by this "mother" of the okiya. But all joking aside, there were two questions that he had to ask.

"What is the old woman's name, and what is _my_ name going to be?"

"Her name is Matsuhiro Kiritsu. And yours can be whatever you wish, since it will be changed when you become a maiko anyway. But I have to say, you do look like a Kodoku."

Kodoku? Katsurathinks he looked like a "solitude"? He would swear everyone had it in for him, they really did. Not only the Shinsengumi, but his own boss too. Unfortunately, death by sword was much more preferable than death by humiliation. Alas, he never got his way. Death by humiliation was just the kind of death he would have to endure until this mission was over.

* * *

"Himura-kun! Now that is not nearly enough for you!" chastised Yamashi-san, quickly snatching the bento out of a dumbfounded Kenshin's hands.

She may have been sweet, but this woman sure was a monster when it came to food.

After Kenshin and Katsura had finished their discussion, they had walked over to the kitchen to put away the dishes and empty the uneaten food into the garbage. But just as they were about to, the old woman came in drying a tea kettle with a beige handkerchief. When she saw the "atrocity" they were about to commit, she nearly dropped the poor kettle in shock. You should _never _throw away uneaten food!

Not wanting to see her motherly rage, Katsura had quietly dismissed himself from the room with a little bow and left Kenshin to his doom. And as expected, she began to try to stuff an unreasonable amount of food into a basket when the frightened hitokiri suggested a bento.

Unfortunately, she only seemed to have a girl's pink bento box with little cherry blossoms adorning it.

Perfect.

So that leads us to where we are now: Kenshin putting a dismal amount of food into the bento box while Yamashi-san snuck in extra bits while his back was turned.

Oh wait, it seems we are at the point where Yamashi-san actually _snatches_ the bento box out of Kenshin's hands because he isn't putting her idea of enough food in.

"You can't be putting in such a small amount or you'll starve, dear!" she said, trying to pack in a large case of sushi.

"But Yamashi-san, there is only so much room…" Kenshin cut in, steadily watching for the moment that the bento exploded.

"Yes, but you are leaving so soon, and then I won't be there to take care of you anymore! Who knows if these people will feed you decent meals! Oh heavens, they better or I'll be having a stern discussion with their mothers!" she cried, her emotions switching between a concerned rage and just plain…concerned.

Kenshin decided to just let her do as she wished. He _would _be stuck in an old rice wagon for a while, so the food would most likely be nice to have. The tiniest of smiles formed on his face as he watched her tie the bento box up with her favorite ribbon, tears welling up on the sides of her eyes. She handed it to Kenshin and followed him as he sauntered outside to where Katsura was standing, waiting for the rice wagon.

Seeing the red-haired boy carrying a pink bento box and the inn's weeping mistress walking towards him, Katsura smiled.

"Yamashi-san, I see you have quite a lunch packed for Himura-kun, now don't you?"

She nodded her head vigorously and clutched onto her handkerchief, crying. Kenshin's gaze, which had been focused on her, now turned to the long dirt path as he heard the sound of the rickety old rice wagon and the pitter-patter of horses' hooves approaching. Katsura turned to Kenshin, a serious look on his face.

"If this mission fails, only catastrophe can be the end result."

Himura bowed and gazed back at Katsura.

"I'm aware of that."

"Good," Katsura responded, smiling, "and don't forget to report any problems you may stumble upon."

Hearing the horses come to an abrupt halt, Himura turned to look at the rice wagon. The thing was as shabby as he had expected. It was a large wooden cart pulled by two chestnut horses, who looked as dreary as the cart itself. The wood was sturdy enough, but it gave off the impression that it was rotted. There were four simple wooden poles sticking up to hold the tarp over the large sacks of rice, flowing over the back to you couldn't see what was contained in it. The piece of junk was really a good way to get to Gion, since no one would expect the Battousai to be hiding amongst a bunch of rice bags in the rear of a shabby wagon. Even the driver was obscured from view until he poked his head from underneath the tarp.

"You comin'?" he questioned, shooting Kenshin a bored, expectant expression.

Kenshin merely nodded and walked to the back of the wagon, lifting up the tarp and shoving the bento and his travel bag between some bags of rice. Pulling himself up into the wagon, Kenshin tried to get comfortable. But when you are sitting between at least ten sacks of rice, even that can become difficult.

Kenshin hardly even had time to close the tarp when the driver whipped the horses into motion. The cart jolted on the smallest of bumps in the road, roughly throwing Kenshin around. Climbing over some sacks to try closing the tarp once again, he saw Yamashi-san frantically waving her handkerchief at him, sobbing into Katsura's shoulder. Smiling the best he could, the hitokiri reached up and yanked the tarp into place. Tying the two pieces of rope around two bits of metal jutting out the sides of the cart, Kenshin leaned back onto one of the rice bags. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't as anxious as he had expected to be. Geisha and maiko were originally men, so how hard could it possibly be?

Relaxing in his current position, Kenshin closed his eyes, satisfied he had quelled his fears. It was best for him to think that everything would be fine, since he had no idea just how wrong he was.

* * *

Japanese Words

hitokiri: manslayer, assassin

-san: it shows respect

-sama: shows major respect

-kun: you would use this to talk to someone who is inferior or you are affectionate towards

okiya :a geisha house

geisha: person of the arts

maiko: apprentice geisha

hai: yes

bento box: a Japanese lunch box

Well, there is chapter three finished! I ended up making it long, even though it made me a little late submitting it! XD Oh well. And I am so excited that I got done with the boring parts! Now as Kenshin gets to the okiya, things will start to heat up (hopefully XD)!

Read and review please!

Punch Buggy


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